and she's gone
by Peachy Hikaru
Summary: "Tomorrow morning, she's going to be on a bright and early flight to Los Angeles, where the rest of her life will begin. And she can hardly wait." Leah leaves without a word to the rest of the pack members, including Sam.
1. Chapter 1

The wine looks ominously like blood from where she's sitting on the couch in the dark, with only the full moon lighting it. The double irony of the situation strikes her – one, Pack members are absolutely incapable of getting drunk, and she'd know best, all things considering, and two, how everything reminded her of the Cullens now that they were gone.

She tilts the glass slightly, perusing the dark red contents, then swirls her glass perfunctorily and lifts it to her lips, kissing the rim lightly and letting the bittersweet contents burn their way down her throat, welcoming the feeling of cool fire sliding down her mouth and throat. It was funny, she'd never been a drinker before, always preferring that fake sparkling grape juice to the real deal. But after _that _had happened, she'd spent a lot of time cuddling up to a bottle of Jack Daniels… or twenty. It had never worked.

But that was all ending soon, wasn't it? She smiled at the tiny bit of wine left, pooling in the bottom of the glass. The Cullens were gone, and there was no excuse for Sam to bind her to the rez anymore. She could finally leave. It would all be over, just… like… that. To seal the deal, she lifted the glass to her lips once more and drained it. By this time tomorrow, she'd be… well, who knows where she'd be?

She sets down the glass and stands up, heading to bed. She knows she won't sleep. But this time, it'll be different. It'll be the last night that she lies in bed, her eyes wide open, seeing and yet unseeing in the dark. But, at the same time, it's the first time that her future is so open, so freeing, so _happy_. Even when she'd known where she belonged – next to Sam, of course – it had always been pretty much set in stone. She'd marry him, have children, settle down, live happily ever after, blah blah blah.

Maybe she should feel some pang of regret, some feeling of wistfulness. She pauses for a moment with her shirt off, frozen in the act of retrieving a sleep shirt from the dresser in her room, trying to locate that elusive feeling. But nope, there's nothing but excitement.

There's nothing here for her anymore, and there hasn't been for a long time. Because as much as she hates to admit it, home for her is, or was, where Sam's heart was. And it wasn't hers anymore. His warm, tight embrace, which somehow managed to soothe all the hurts and pains that life dealt her, that was all gone. So right now, she had no home. The pack was just her torment, her own personal hell. But it was time to leave, and maybe soon she'd find a new home.

She thinks of the plane ticket that's sitting in her backpack now, which is resting on top of a suitcase next to her bedroom door. It's going to take her to L.A., but that's only the beginning. She may not choose to stay there. She may go to San Fran, New York, wherever the wind takes her. As she gets into bed, she looks at the camera sitting on her dresser, the one she'd scrimped and saved for six months to buy, and the corners of her mouth lift up in a small smile. That camera, innocent as it looked, had been her savior. Somehow, looking at things through the lens made them seem so pure, beautiful. And as beautiful as the rez was, she yearned to see different things through the lens, to explore the world from a different point of view.

She knows she's good, because she's uploaded some of her photographs online and actually gotten business enquiries regarding them. People want to buy her photographs, or want her to make postcards for them, or whatever. Does it really matter? She has a way of supporting herself when she leaves this place, and she won't be destitute. She'll even – hopefully, anyway – be able to send money back to her family from wherever she is, and support them even if she can't be here with them.

And she can't. Not anymore. She's never said anything, but she knows both her mother and Seth understand, that it's just harder and harder every day to watch the man she loved more than anything be so happy with someone who was like a sister to her, to watch the life she's always wanted being lived out by someone who was supposed to love her unconditionally, someone she's always seen as being one of her best friends. Who knew just how she felt about Sam, from the late night phone calls filled with breathless giggles and her gushing excitedly, She knows the other pack members just think she's a shrew, a bitter harpy who can't get over life, but it was more than that. She had loved Sam, with every inch of her being, every fiber of her heart, and it hadn't been enough. It had been the worst, most cruel rejection she could ever have conceived, and from two of the people she loved the most in the world. None of them could ever imagine the pain she goes through every day, every minute, of knowing that Sam has his happy ending after all – it just doesn't include her.

That's why none of them know. Ever since the plan had been put in motion, she's started cutting back on her hours with the pack, swapping her shifts around with all the pack members, rotating so that none of them really know how much she's been slacking off. None of them question it, really, all of them just too relieved that they don't have to patrol with her, and her uncomfortable thoughts of sadness and melancholy and that deep, awful bitterness deep within her mind.

She wonders if anyone has noticed that she's stopped thinking about that recently. She hasn't really been thinking about anything much though, afraid that if she lets her mind wander, she'll start thinking about her imminent departure and they'll find out. She doesn't really know why she's so reluctant to let anyone know, since it's unlikely that any of them will even care. Even Sam would probably be relieved to see her go.

But then again, she's honest with herself to admit that their apathy would hurt her more than anything. And she can't deal with that pain, can't take the risk of falling apart now, when she's already been so strong for so long. And that's why she focuses on glasses, on empty coke bottles and blunt pencils whenever she has to be in wolf form, just to hide her plans. The pack doesn't realize of course. They're too busy being relieved that she's not thinking about things that make them uncomfortable, or angry.

It all ends tomorrow, though. Tomorrow morning, she's going to be on a bright and early flight to Los Angeles, where the rest of her life will begin. And she can hardly wait.

She's out of bed by four the next morning, since two hours of lying in a bed where she knows sleep will not claim her is a phenomenal waste of time, especially on a morning like this. She grabs her clothes and hops in the shower, and by five, she's sitting in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, with her worn leather jacket draped over the back of the couch, and her suitcase on standby next to the front door.

Sue wanders down shortly, her eyes filling with tears as she looks as her only daughter and oldest child, knowing this may well be the last time she sees her baby girl in this house. But she knows better than to beg for her daughter to stay. To do so would be selfish, and she won't be another person to weigh the young woman down with the weight of her requests with no thought or concern for her.

Leah's heard her, of course, even though her werewolf senses have been fading since she hasn't changed in the last two weeks. She rises from her seat, abandoning her half-eaten cereal to hug her mother. "I love you, mom," she whispers in a croaky voice, rusty from disuse. She clears her throat and tries again. "I just… you'll come visit me, right?"

"Sweetheart, I will come and visit you wherever you may be. Hong Kong, Japan, London, just let me know and I'll be there. I've always wanted to see more of the world anyway," Sue replies, trying to hide her sadness with levity. Because even if she'll miss her baby girl, she's so excited that Leah is going to get to do all these things that no one on the rez has ever managed before.

"Thank you, mom," Leah says, her eyes filling with tears that she stubbornly refuses to shed, and sits back down to finish her breakfast.

When she's done, she places her bowl in the sink, and Seth comes down the stairs. He gives Leah a tight, bone-crushing hug, and she hugs him back just as tightly. There really isn't much he knows to say to her right now, since he's never been the best with words, but he thinks that the hug conveys everything he wants to say. Then he picks up her luggage, because even though she's a werewolf as well as more than capable of carrying her own bags, he's still a gentleman, and he isn't going to get many more opportunities to take care of his sister like she once took care of him, so he's going to milk this for all he can.

She trails after him, laughing through the lump in her throat as she complains that she can carry her own suitcase, dammit, and he'd better not drop it. He places the suitcase in the boot of the car and they all get in, driving her to the airport, which is maybe an hour's drive away. They fill the void with soft chitchat, on how she's going to handle everything once she gets there, and her plans for when she's there – trying to catch a glimpse of celebrities and taking sunrise pictures on the beach, obviously – and just ignore the giant elephant in the room, because neither of the Clearwater children are very comfortable with talking about their emotions.

But time runs out, eventually, and they're all standing before the departure gates, and it's time for Leah to leave. They share one last hug before she walks through those gates, and tears are shed by all of them, including Leah, though she'd never admit it.

"You call us as soon as possible, okay?" Sue says, fussing over her daughter for what could be the last time ever.

"I will as soon as I get my new phone number, mom," Leah promises, hugging her mother tight. Then she lets go and wraps her arms around her brother.

"I'll miss you," she says to him, and he chokes back a sob as he hugs her tightly, not wanting to let his big sister, who's been there his whole life, go. "I'll miss you too," he says softly, as he releases her.

"I love you both," she tells them, kissing them both on the cheek one last time. "And I'll talk to you two soon," she promises as she walks through the gates, waving before she turns away.

Half an hour later, she's buckled in her seat, unable to contain her excitement and nerves as the plane slowly starts to taxi and takes off. Her new life is just beginning.

Far away, back on the rez that she's left behind, a deep, crushing pain startles Sam Uley out of his peaceful sleep. He grunts in agony as his insides twist, and his writhing movements wake Emily Uley, who's sleeping next to him, up. "What's wrong?" she asks, blinking the sleep away from her eyes as she reaches for him.

But her touch burns him, all of a sudden, and then it seems like every inch of skin on his body is igniting in flames. He rolls out of bed and half-crawls, half-stumbles, to the front gate, where he phases and howls in agony.

Leah Clearwater, who had once almost been Leah Uley, the love of his life and the soul mate to his human half, had left. And it seemed like she had torn out a chunk of his heart to take with her. Because there is no going back from this, no moving on, no recovery. There is nothing without Leah.

* * *

_Phew! I wrote all that and uploaded it in one sitting, so if I've made any mistakes, I'm very very sorry. Also, I'm sorry if there are discrepancies, I haven't read the Twilight novels in a very long time, but I was browsing through some Sam and Leah fics and I just had a lot of feels._

_That being said, hope you enjoyed, and please do drop me a review to let me know what you thought! Thanks! _

_Love,_

_Peachy Hikaru_


	2. Chapter 2

A young woman stands on the LA coastline, the barest hint of sunrise bathing her skin in light, outlining her silhouette against the light pink-blue of the early morning sky. She tilts her face up, towards the sea breeze coming off the ocean.

A small smile graces her lips. She can't smell the ocean anywhere close to as well as she used to be able to, and she loves it. The dulling of her sense of smell and hearing, the muting of the pack presence which always used to be in the back of her mind.

The return of her menstrual cycle.

Leah Clearwater is now human enough to resume her life, far away from where she had once been trapped on the reserve, with no way to expand her horizons, to experience life without the heartbreak and hatred that had once bogged her down.

She raises her expensive camera to her face, the new gift she'd received from Canon just last week. She's made quite a name for herself here, and she has companies beating her door down, wanting her to advertise their cameras and photography products. She's been thinking of signing with Canon, since they've been so generous and they really do make amazing cameras and lenses, but then she wouldn't get the amazing gifts the other companies send her on a regular basis.

Is that materialistic of her? Perhaps.

She snaps a few quick shots and lowers the camera, pulling her thick side braid over her shoulder. She loves her long hair, yet another symbol of her freedom from her pack. As a wolf, it was impractical to keep long hair, but as a human woman, the length of her hair has no deeper implications than how much time she spends on it every day.

She curls her toes in the sand as she watches the sun rise, bathing the beach in light, as it glitters off the waves and illuminates the world. Her pictures of sunrises don't sell anymore; she guesses it's probably something to do with the sheer number she has of them, from every location and angle possible. She still likes to take pictures of the sunrise though, simply for her own viewing pleasure.

When the sun has risen fully, she turns, walking back to her car, her camera in one hand and her flip-flops dangling from the other. She has a busy day today, meetings with clients and sponsors, and submitting the images for her upcoming show so that they can be put to canvas, and framed up.

She also has to go dress-shopping.

She grimaces at the thought. In the four years that she's been out here, she hasn't found a reason to go back to the reservation. She hasn't heard anything about the people she's left behind - Seth and Sue know better than to try and broach the topic with her. She still talks to them on a regular basis, but they always stick to safe topics, like how much they love the framed pictures she sent back, or Seth's girlfriend… well, fiancee now.

Her baby brother is finally getting married, and as proud as she is of him, she can't help but shudder in dread at the thought of returning to the rez, of seeing the people she hasn't seen, and has thought of as little as possible, in the last four years. They're getting married next week, and she'd promised to go back to La Push to attend the wedding.

The girl he's marrying, Juliet, is nice enough, she supposes. At least, that's what she's managed to garner from the few times she'd met the girl when she came with Seth to LA. And she's glad that Seth has found his happy ending; she wouldn't wish what had happened to her on anyone, much less her baby brother.

That doesn't change the fact that she'd rather have all of her fingernails plucked out by tweezers than go back to the damned rez. But she has to be there for her brother; he's even asked her to speak at his reception.

As she unlocks the door to her high-ceilinged, bright and breezy apartment just near the beach, she contemplates the direction her life has taken since she'd made the decision four years ago to leave the rez, the place where all her bad memories were. She knows it's unfair for her to remember the rez that way, because there have been good memories there too, but then again, most of her good memories were ruined by what she refers to in her mind as The Tragedy. Melodramatic, sure, but what else should she call the series of events in which she lost her father, her best friend, and her fiancé?

She drops the flip-flops by the door, and walks into her beautiful shower, which has three shower heads and a stone bench positioned just so that she can sit or lie on it while the pulsing jets spray her body with hot water.

She loves the life she's built for herself here, where she's made good friends… real friends, she thinks, for the first time since The Tragedy. Friends that she can get drunk with, confide in, _trust_, unconditionally. And she can't help thinking that she will never give up what she has here, for anything or anyone.

As the water rinses away the sand and soap from her body, she smiles in contentment. Those have been coming around a lot more frequently lately, she thinks.

* * *

Sam rubs at his chest absently, sitting at his dining table. The pain never went away, after that day. He'd found out later on that Leah had left, and Seth and Sue had refused to tell him where she'd disappeared to. He'd tried to pull rank on Seth, in his desperation - not his finest moment, he would admit, with him half out of his mind with pain, panic and rage, roaring at Seth to _obey his fucking Alpha, god dammit - _but in the end, when he'd calmed down and could breathe past the pain, he could step back from the situation and admit that Seth had been right not to tell him.

He could see now, that Leah had needed her space and time away from him and the pack. Somehow he'd forgotten the Leah he used to know, and it made him ashamed that he'd played such a huge role in the disappearance of the old LeeLee he'd once known, loved, had wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew she was coming back now. And this was his once chance to ask her to come back. He didn't know how or what he could offer her, but she had to come back, if only to ease this suffering, the pain in his chest that felt like his heart was being ripped out, over and over again.

Ever since he'd received the invitation to Seth's wedding and come to the logical conclusion that Leah would be back, he's fantasised obsessively about the event. She would be gorgeous in her stylish dress, because God knew, his LeeLee had always cleaned up well, and he knows from Googling her name - like a fucking stalker, he knows - that she'd let her hair grow back out since she'd stopped phasing.

He would beg Leah to take him back, because he couldn't deal with the pain any longer, and she would reluctantly agree. He doesn't know what the arrangements would be like, but he knows they will work it out.

Emily won't be much of a problem, anyway; ever since Leah had left there had been a rift between the two of them. It was his fault more than hers, he supposes, since after all, he was the one who had withdrawn into himself after Leah left. Emily had tried to be understanding, but eventually, the hurt and the embarrassment that her husband, the wolf who had imprinted on _her_, was having some kind of magically enhanced breakdown at the departure of the woman he'd left for her.

It's cold in their house now. They'd remained together, but more for convenience's sake than for anything else, since they had children and he didn't know if his wolf still considered Emily its imprintee. Who really knew, given that the whole situation was unprecedented?

He doesn't know what he will do if she says no. Hell, he doesn't know what he would do even if she said yes. Leave the rez and move to LA with her? He has pack responsibilities and fatherly responsibilities to deal with. But he knows he has to try to make it work out, to give LeeLee and himself the happy ending they should have had, without all this magic shit that had screwed their lives up.

Emily stands outside the glass doors, watching Sam swirl the whiskey in his shot glass. Before Leah had left he'd never done that, too afraid of turning into his father. But now it seems the only thing that could give him any solace, and although he never turns violent or moody, she can't help but hate Leah a little bit, for stealing her Sam away.

But no, that isn't right. It's wrong to feel that way, and she feels so much guilt, for her part in driving Leah away, and making Sam suffer. Because she's known it all along, that as much as Sam's wolf is drawn to her, Sam, the man, will always belong to Leah. And it's moments like these, when she sees Sam suffering, when she remembers Leah's sad, angry expression and the way the woman who had once been her best friend started looking at her with bitterness and loathing that, if she was honest, she deserved in every measure. Because, after all, she knows that there were so many opportunities for her to stop what they were doing, to tell him that it was wrong, that they both loved Leah too much to do this to her.

But she had been too enamoured of the adoration he lavished upon her, the way his brows pinched together when he looked at her, the way he'd made her feel so loved and needed, and she'd forgotten that all that had belonged to Leah before the wolf; and in some way, it would always belong to her.

And as she opens the door, startling him, she comes to the realisation that as much as she loves Sam, and misses how he'd been once, she misses Leah more, and Leah's sweet smile, exuberantly joyful personality, and all the late-night phone conversations about boys, and of course Leah had always told her so much about Sam, how wonderful he was and how much she loved him, and Emily had been trapped between envy and delight for her cousin.

She twists the ring on her finger, and finally comes to a decision. Stepping up to the table in front of Sam, she slides the ring off her finger and places it down next to his glass.

He looks up at her, confused. "What are you doing?" he asks, his eyes red, his chest and shoulders tense. He hasn't relaxed in over four years, not since the morning he'd woken up in agony to find her gone. And she smiles at him sadly, tears spilling out of her eyes, and he knows. "Fixing a mistake we made years ago," she tells him. "She's coming back next week for Seth's wedding, you know. This may be the only chance you'll have to let her know how you feel."

He looks at her, and starts to protest, but he can't find the words to. She seems to know, can read him like a book by now. "I miss my best friend too," she tells him. "It's been ten years since I've known her. I want my best friend back." And he understands perfectly, because LeeLee was his best friend too, and he's hated seeing the shadow of her in Leah's eyes, hovering in the back of the pack mind, when sometimes all he wants is to hug her again, to hold her and make love to her again, the way he'd been free to when they were just a regular engaged couple, so sure of their future together.

* * *

Hi guys!

Yes, I'm back! I was going to put everything into one chapter, but then I started worrying that it would be too long, so this is it for now. :) I hope you enjoy it so far, and there should be about one more chapter coming.

I haven't quite decided where to go with the ending yet, so if you have anything you would love to see, or vehemently don't want to see, please drop me a review and let me know what you think! (If you have no preferences, feel free to drop me a review anyway.)

Love,

Peachy Hikaru


	3. Chapter 3

Leah settles into her sumptuous first-class seat as the captain instructs the passengers on the takeoff and landing protocol. She knows what to do, she's flown so many times to so many different destinations because of her job. She leans into her seat, closing her eyes and trying not to remember that she's going back to La Push, the place she left four years ago with the fervent promise to never come back.

Well, that worked out well.

Still, going back for her baby brother's wedding doesn't seem so bad, if she doesn't take into account the fact that all their - _his_ \- pack members will be there, and their mates. Emily and Sam, especially. She frowns at the thought as the plane prepares for takeoff, trying to focus on the trashy novel she'd bought at the airport while waiting for her flight to board.

As the plane takes off, she scowls. She's never really enjoyed flying, even the time she'd flown to LA for the first time. It's probably a wolf thing, she assumes, the fear of hurtling through the air trapped in a tin machine. That sounds likely, since wolves tend to have claustrophobia.

That isn't the case now, though.

She tries to relax and enjoy the flight; after all, the first-class seat she's flying back in in so much better than the crappy economy seat she had coming out here, and that should be a good sign for the trip, right?

She sighs. If only La Push wasn't so far away from the nearest airport; she'd ended up having to stay for two nights, since she wouldn't get to the reservation till evening. The wedding is tomorrow, and then she will leave the day after. It seems too long, but there was no way she would be able to do a one-night trip, given how long it took to travel there, as hard as she'd tried.

She wasn't staying in her old home, even though her mother hadn't been too pleased. But there were too many memories there, and besides, Seth was going to be busy getting ready and she didn't want to get in his way. Instead, she will be staying in the only resort in La Push,

She has to admit that she is incredibly proud of her brother. The woman he's decided to commit his life to isn't his imprint, and it seems a risk, because he could meet his imprint later on, but when she cautioned him about it, he resolutely answered that he loved her more than anything, and the imprint wouldn't be his true feelings.

She wonders why Sam couldn't feel the same way about her, and feels the old bitterness rising in her.

No, this isn't what she's going to think about the entire time she's there. She refuses to let the old thoughts of Sam and Emily bother her. She's a new woman, and maybe if she squints a little, she can see the silver lining of the enormous, dark cloud that had hovered over her for so long. Out of the rez, there's so much for her. A job that earns her more than she could ever have dreamed of earning back in La Push or Forks, adventures, travel, the opportunity to practice her craft and her passion.

Maybe she doesn't have love, but this seems to be a fair enough trade. No one can have everything, right?

With thoughts of how fulfilled she's felt ever since leaving La Push filling her mind, Leah lets the rocking of the plane, and her own soothing music, lull her to sleep. She's woken up hours later by the flight attendant telling her to push her seat back into its upright position for landing.

She gets off the plane, her purse slung over her shoulder and pulling her overnight suitcase along as she makes her way through the customs of the small airport. As she exits the cool air-conditioned interior of the building, she grimaces at the humid heat that just about smacks her in the face, pulling her sweater off quickly to reveal the tank top underneath. Quickly picking up the car she'd made arrangements for online, she turns the air-conditioning up to high as she begins the two-hour drive back to La Push.

It's a madhouse in the Clearwater residence. Sue and Juliet are excitedly discussing the ins and outs of the last-minute arrangements: who to guide the florists, the pastor, who had kindly agreed to do the service for almost nothing on account of him being old friends with Sue, and all the other details. Seth, as hard as he tries to keep up, just can't keep track of all the minute details they are sorting out, and he couldn't be more grateful that his mother and wife-to-be are so capable.

In the back of everyone's mind, though, is the knowledge that Leah is coming back today. Seth and Sue are excited beyond belief, though apprehensive. They don't know what will happen when Leah comes face to face with her old pack. Her ex-fiancé, and her cousin, his wife. They can only hope for the best.

Juliet is a little concerned with the slight distance she's noticed recently, in Sue and Seth. When she asked Seth about it, he simply replied that Leah hadn't been home since she left, and he was worried about how the others would receive her. A logical enough explanation, but she knows him well enough to know that there is something else going on there, that he isn't telling her. For her part, Juliet is excited to see Leah, and to hear her speak at their wedding. She doesn't know Leah that well, but she likes the older woman, and if she's being honest, she has a slight hero-worship type infatuation on her. When she'd admitted it to Seth on the way back to Forks from their first visit to LA, he laughed at her, but she knows he understands.

She too, hopes that everything will go smoothly for Leah. She doesn't know too much, because Seth refuses to tell her, citing the reason that it's Leah's secret, which she can understand. Leah has told her a little, though, on one of their shopping sojourns on Rodeo Drive. She still can't believe that she's been there, let alone bought something. She hadn't wanted to, but Leah had almost bullied her into it, and since she liked it so much, under Leah's persuasion she agreed to purchase it. The slinky little black-and-red dress had had its coronation as the queen of her wardrobe on the night of her bachelorette party.

She wonders what Leah is going to wear, but then realizes that it hardly matters. She's never seen Leah look anything other than effortlessly flawless, whether she was dressed formally for a gallery opening or lounging around her house in a tank top and shorts. Leah is the kind of woman who is so timelessly beautiful and elegant that it should make Juliet insanely jealous, but she is also sweet and kind, funny and vivacious, and overall so likeable it's impossible to let her envy turn into dislike.

She doesn't like it when the other men talk about her, though, because they say the most awful things about how bitchy she is, and how unpleasant she was to be around when she was here. And she looks to Sam, hoping he will speak in Leah's defense, since she knows that they were once engaged, but he remains silent and brooding, never disagreeing with the rest, even though she knows that he has the power to shut them up easily.

She hears a car pulling up in the driveway, and knows it's Leah. All three of them race excitedly to the front door, Seth reaching it first due to his longer strides. He yanks the door open forcefully, and grins as he watches Leah climb out of the sleek Mercedes she'd rented. "Gee, sis, way to show up in style," he teases her. "I don't think anything this fancy has ever been on the roads of La Push."

She takes off her sunglasses and frowns at him. "It's a nice car, and you know it," she admonishes, even as she opens her arms for a hug. Both he and Sue rush in, while Juliet hovers, feeling a little left out, although she can't help but admire the adorable Kodak moment the small family is having. She kind of wants to take a picture, but she doesn't have her phone or camera on her, and in any case, Leah is the photographer in the family, not her.

After a long moment, Leah squirms out of the grasp of her family. "I'm sweaty and stinky and I haven't showered since before I left for the airport in LA," she protests. "Hello, Juliet," she says, sending a friendly smile together with the cordial greeting. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," Juliet agrees slightly breathlessly. Seth smirks at her, and she blushes. He finds it inordinately amusing that she is so enamoured of his sister.

"Well, I have to check myself into my room at the resort, but I'll be back for dinner," Leah finally says, getting back into her car.

Sue frowns. "I do wish you'd stay here with us, dear," she says in a last-ditch effort to coax Leah to come home, even if just for a short while.

Leah rolls her eyes. "I know, mom, but you know it's going to be a madhouse here tomrorow, and I'll just get in everyone's way. Plus the reception is going to be held at the resort's banquet hall, so it's more convenient to stay there. You're welcome to stay with me tomorrow night if you're too tired to come back," she offers.

Sue still looks displeased, but accepts the compromise. And with that, Leah shuts her car door, and with another smile and a wave, she's gone.

Seth and Sue stare after her. "I haven't seen her this happy and smiling on the porch of this house in ten years," Sue marvels. "LA has been amazing for her. It seems like I was worried for nothing; the progress she's made there isn't going to unravel now that she's back."

It feels like a car that's been sitting on his chest for four years has suddenly been lifted. He takes in the first breath in what feels like eternity that isn't constricted by lead bands around his chest. And he knows.

"LeeLee," he breathes, and he's out of his house in a heartbeat, running to the Clearwater residence. He remembers the days of his youth, when he would run back from her house in the evenings, after spending the entire afternoon together, only to return late at night to sneak into her room. How many times has he run along this very path? Too many to count, he supposed, remembering that even before he and Leah had started dating, when he was a child the only solace he found from his awful father at home was Leah.

He arrives at the backyard of the Clearwater residence, panting more than he should be. But he can smell it, Leah's scent. He'd thought he would have forgotten it after so many years, but the moment he got close enough, it bombarded him, swirling around his mind and his body, bringing back all the memories he'd had with her.

"LeeLee?" he calls tremulously, his voice trembling more than he would care to admit. Oh, God, would this be the moment he finally laid his gaze on her again, after four long years? His soul cries out in longing.

Instead, when the door slams open, it's Seth, seething with rage. "Get off my property," he demands.

Sam meets his glare head-on. "Where's Leah." The question comes out sounding not like a question at all.

Seth scoffs, and Sam sees the man that the joyful teenage boy has become, and he almost feels sorry that this man wasn't his brother-in-law. "Not here."

The statement rings with cold finality, and it chokes Sam, stealing his next words. It doesn't matter, though, because Seth knows what he's going to say, has heard it so many times in the pack mind ever since Leah disappeared.

_"I will not tell you where she is. I will not tell you where she is going. Are you out of your mind?" _Seth growled the words angrily, from behind clenched teeth. "You're going to make her miserable again, and so help me God, if I see you even going up to say hi to her tomorrow night, _you will be sorry_."

The vicious retort bubbles up in Sam's throat, a harsh and instinctive demand for Seth to fall into line immediately, and obey his Alpha. He bites the words back, knowing that he deserves every bit of the hatred and fire Seth's eyes are spitting at him. Without a word, he turns and walks away, knowing that this battle has been lost.

But without knowing it, Seth has given him a clue - there's only one place Leah would be if she wasn't staying at her old place, and that's the resort. He stops dead in his tracks for a moment, the memories flooding him. There's him and Leah, sneaking onto the grounds after dark, giggling and laughing so hard they could hardly walk straight as they frolicked in the pool, the two of them during their prom night, when he had, predictably enough, gotten them a room at the only nice place on the reservation. They'd gotten engaged near the resort, on the secluded beach near it, and once, when they'd first started dating, he'd piggybacked her all around the resort grounds for half a day on a dare.

He wonders if the same memories are flooding her mind as she checks herself into the resort, and hopes so. He can't be the only one remembering these painful, poignant memories. Even as he walks down to the resort, seeing all the places where he and Leah used to hang out, or where something eventful had happened - their first kiss, all the times they'd chased each other up and down the streets as children, the first time he'd gotten paid for his part-time job and bought her an ice-cream cone with it - all of it makes him miss Leah more and more.

Walking past the graveyard where Harry is buried, his breath stops in his lungs for a moment, as if wanting to hold it in forever. _LeeLee_. The scent of her, warm and refreshing, somehow like a citrusy ocean, sweeps over him, blindsiding him.

She has to be there, he's sure of it. And it makes perfect sense, really. After all, the only person who hasn't come to visit her in four years, who couldn't, is Harry. He knows Seth and Sue have, has seen it in the pack mind despite how hard Seth tries to keep it from the rest of the pack.

He runs to Harry's grave, knowing exactly where he is. He's visited it so many times in the last ten years, most of them since Leah had left. He had so much to apologise to Harry for: for breaking the promises he'd made when Harry had given him permission to propose to Leah, for being the asshole who'd broken his daughter's heart, for triggering said daughter's change… the list went on an on. Mostly, though, he went to try to explain to Harry that he'd never stopped loving Leah, that under the imprint he was still the same man who would give up his life for her.

Harry's grave was in the middle of a little clearing on the edge of the graveyard. It was a cute, picturesque spot that he'd gotten because of his spot on the Council of Elders, and as Sam tiptoes up to it slowly, he sees the woman he's been obsessing over for the past four years.

His breath catches in his throat. She looks incredible. Kneeling on the grave, her hand pressed against the cold marble that makes up the headstone, her head is bowed so he can't see her features, but he drinks in the sight of her nonetheless.

She doesn't even look up, and he knows she can't smell his presence in the air, since she's no longer a werewolf. He wonders idly if she has retained any characteristics of being a werewolf, like her physical strength and resilience. He was never able to test out their new resilience and stamina together, like he'd wanted to initially, before the imprint drove thoughts of sex with Leah out of his mind.

But as he stands there, hidden in the foliage, she begins to talk, and suddenly he can't move, because he captured by the melodic sound of her voice.

"Hi dad," she says, her husky voice rubbing against him like the sensual, sinuous press of a cat's body. "Long time no see, huh."

He has to fight back a grin, even as the back of his eyes burn suspiciously. He hasn't heard her voice in four years, and hearing it for the first time is enormously special for him, but more than that, hearing that warm, wry, slightly teasing lilt in her voice when she speaks to her father reminds him of all he has lost. He knows enough about her to know that that's the tone of voice she uses when speaking to her loved ones. He knows the look that accompanies that tone too, because once upon a time, she used to look at him that way. He's memorised her lopsided, cheeky grin, eyes aglow with mischief and love, all beloved, all Leah.

Then she turns slightly away from the gravestone, and he experiences a shock to his entire body as, hidden by the trees, he's treated to the first look at her beautiful face that he's had in… well, it feels like forever, since he's looked at her without the cloud of the imprint telling him that she isn't the woman for him. In that instant, that perfect instant of clarity, he knows. And he will do anything to make her realize it too.

"I miss you," she whispers, tears catching in her voice, and her tone of voice knots Sam up inside. He wonders if she misses him too. Even though he knows it's wrong, he hopes so.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she tells him. "I'm sorry I was… a shifter. I didn't mean to be a freak of nature Daddy, and I wish that you didn't have to be caught there when it happened for the first time." She sniffles and rubs her eyes with her fist.

Sam's knees go weak. He has to grip a branch to keep his balance, because if he falls onto his ass, superhuman hearing or no, she's going to hear him, and as much as he wants to talk to her, let her know he's there, he can't disturb this moment she's having with her father.

Guilt wells up inside him. He knew, to some extent, that she felt this way. That she was harbouring so much guilt and pain and sadness inside her. He'd seen it when they were on patrol together, whenever her walls came down, whether for a moment, or for longer.

And he could have done so much to help her, to make her understand that she wasn't the one to blame for the crazy turn of events that her life had undertaken. But he hadn't, because he was, and he didn't want to acknowledge it. It was his fault she'd shifted then and the shock had sent her father into cardiac arrest. It was his fault that every day, hour, minute that she'd lived on the rez since then, she'd been living with so much pain and agony.

Unable to bear it any longer, he slowly creeps away, letting the full enormity of what he'd done to the woman he'd sworn he'd love no matter what happened sink into him, the guilty horror crashing like waves over him, threatening to drown him forever.

And in his mind, there is only one word echoing endlessly in his mind, turning the knife, pushing it deeper.

_Leah_.

Yay I'm back! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please do drop me a review telling me what you thought of it; I love hearing from you guys! P.S. I couldn't find the button to insert like a line break so I'm so sorry about that guys, the (***) doesn't look nearly as professional, does it? :( If any of you know how to get it back, please let me know!

Love,

Peachy Hikaru


	4. Chapter 4

Leah sits at the dresser at her hotel room, frowning. The table is covered with her makeup, hair products, top-of-the-line curling iron, and assorted skincare products.

She feels a little fake, if she's being honest. What's the point of dressing up and hiding herself for the sake of a group of men who have seen her naked?

But then again, all this - she thinks of the makeup, hair, dress and shoes - it's all armour. And even if she doesn't usually wear makeup, she's still got a healthy collection, and a fair amount of skill, from premiers of her collections, and social events.

So she picks up her tube of moisturiser and squirts some into her palm, smoothing it gently into her skin. Her hair is still wet, and falling straight down her back, the water soaking into the fluffy robe form the hotel.

Sighing, she picks up the primer, then the foundation. What a hassle this is. She feels bad that she's thinking of her baby brother's wedding as such an ordeal, when it should really be a happy occasion. After all, the little boy who stole her chocolate and cried when he'd held an earthworm too tight and it died, was grown up, and maybe there would be more little boys with big eyes and bigger hearts in her family.

She would be a good aunt, she thinks as she dusts the deep brown shadow into her crease, blending it into the shimmery gold shadow on her lids. LA is a fun place for kids to visit, with the Walk of Fame, and Disneyland would be fun. She smiles as she imagines it, and a pang of melancholy suddenly hits her, out of the blue, as she pops a little bit of shimmery cream-coloured shadow on the inside of her eyes.

It occurs to her that she could be a mother, if she so wished. Her menstrual cycle has started again, after all, which means she's fertile. She closes her eyes halfway as she paints the cool eyeliner on, fanning her lids lightly to help them dry. It's not like there's any lack of good-looking, willing guys in LA. She can barely leave the house for a cup of coffee without being hit on, something which perversely pleases her, because it's nice to know that the guys in the pack were wrong, that she's still desirable after all.

She carefully sticks the false lashes on. These were sent to her by a new company, who'd hoped she would be the new face of their product. She wants to try them before she puts her name on these, but they look good, dark, dramatic lashes with a little bit of sparkle from the small rhinestones stuck onto the base of the lashes. After all, diamonds are a girl's best friend, right? Even tiny, fake ones count, she decides magnanimously.

She quickly dusts a faint sheen of coral blush on her cheeks and smooths a matte apple red lipstick on, turning her head as she carefully inspects her makeup to make sure that it's perfect. Then, satisfied, she spritzes some setting spray onto her face, fanning her hands over her face lightly to make sure it's dry before she picks up her heat protectant and starts on her hair.

Sam stands in front of the mirror in his bedroom, fixing his tie. Nerves make his palms sweaty and his fingers clumsy as he makes a mistake and has to start over again on his tie. The men in the pack are supposed to go early to have a drink with Seth before the reception, but he won't be on time if he can't get his stupid tie on.

"Work with me here," he mutters as he struggles with it. An unbidden memory pops into his head, of Leah smiling at him as her dexterous fingers nimbly manoeuvre the tie into a classic Windsor knot for his high school graduation. This was followed closely by a less pleasant memory of Harry's funeral, where it had been Emily knotting his tie for him, murmuring quiet words of consolation to him about how it hadn't been their fault.

It's probably wrong, and he knows it, but he couldn't help but compare the two women in his mind, and for something as mundane as _tying his tie_, for fuck's sake. And even at seventeen, Leah had been way better than Emily, anyway. Without the influence of the imprint clouding his mind, he can finally realize and admit all the ways in which Emily hadn't measured up to Leah in his mind.

Then he almost starts tearing up because he's only just beginning to realize the magnitude of his loss, of what he'd wasted, _thrown away_ because of the stupid imprint, and his own weakness. Now that he knows it's possible to break the imprint, he can't regret not having done it enough. He'd been so complacent about it, assuming that it was fate, kismet, whatever, and that he'd been completely incapable of being swept away in the maelstrom that is the imprint.

And in doing so, he threw away real happiness, that had everything to do with actual feelings and not some stupid werewolf legend.

To distract himself, he wonders what Leah will be wearing tonight, as he finally get the knot right and straightens his suit jacket. Leah had never really made a big deal out of her fashion choices, but she always looked good, and he's seen some of the pictures of her when she dresses up for her art gallery premieres or whatever, and his girl cleans up good.

Well, she will be his girl if he doesn't screw up tonight anyway. With a deep breath, he turns away from the mirror and picks up the car keys to his truck.

Showtime.

Sue Clearwater stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She appraises herself carefully; the small laugh lines in the corners of her eyes, the slight sagging at her jawline, all evidence of a life well lived.

She purses her lips at her reflection. "Oh Harry, if only you could be here tonight," she murmurs. She needs all the strength she can get, dealing with seeing her baby boy getting married, while simultaneously worrying herself silly about her only daughter. Tonight is going to be full of emotional turmoil. Even though Charlie is wonderful, and has brought so much light to her life in a time when it seemed that everything was turning on its head, they both know he is sadly inept when it comes to dealing with Leah. After all, how can he, when he doesn't even know the entirety of the situation?

She grimaces because it didn't have to be that way. None of this was necessary in the first place, all this heartbreak, and even Harry's death. With the fierce love and protectiveness of a mother, she feels a sense of unadulterated hate and resentment for the Cullens, and for Emily and Sam. The Cullens because if not for them, the imprinting wouldn't be a problem, and Sam and Emily because, well, they _chose_ to cheat on Leah, to disrespect the love she and Sam had shared. And to think, she'd once stood by and happily welcomed Sam into her family, into her baby girl's life. Her lip curls and she shakes her head. How did things change so much?

Her phone rings, vibrating against the sink countertop for a moment, notifying her to a new message. It's an iPhone 5S, one of the best on the market, and certainly the best anyone on the rez owns. She'd protested against the extravagance when Leah took her to get one in Seattle, when she was there for a charity event, but Leah had insisted.

Picking up the phone, she sees the message Leah had left for her, informing her that she was with Seth. A moment of panic flares as she remembers that Seth had offhandedly told her that he was going to have a drink with the pack members before the ceremony begins, and she quickly bolts out of the ladies'.

Hurrying down to the hotel bar, she heaves a sigh of relief when she sees her two children standing next to each other, chatting. She takes a moment to admire her two beautiful children, her son looking so dapper in his wedding tux, her gorgeous daughter fully made up, her thick curls spilling down her back, a waterfall braid weaving its way through her head from her temple. She's wearing a beautiful cocktail dress in ash grey, a short dress with a halter neckline and a loose, gauzy layer of lace over a formfitting shift. The only colour in her ensemble is her red lipstick, nails, clutch and the bottoms of her black Louboutin heels.

She can't help but smile as she sees the way Leah carries herself, tall, strong and confident. That was how she used to stand, before everything happened. It's wonderful to see how much LA has changed Leah for the better, and she loves it, even though she misses Leah and worries about how she's doing in a big city all by herself.

She turns slightly, about to walk away, when she sees none other than that Lahote boy walking up to the siblings. Her eyes narrow and she starts making her way there to intercept him, warn him off her daughter. She knows how awful he'd been to her Leah while she was still in the pack, and she doesn't want him anywhere near her baby girl.

She isn't fast enough, and she sees Leah go rigid as he joins them. But as she watches, Seth turns to glower at Paul, and she knows that he's got things under control.

"Hey man, chatting up your last conquest before the old ball and chain come on?" Paul jokes as he approaches the couple.

Seth watches as Leah abruptly stiffens, looking mildly panicked and wildly uncomfortable. He gives her arm a reassuring squeeze, and turns to glare at Paul, silently telling him to shut up. Paul, being Paul, doesn't obey, and braces his elbows on the counter, peering up flirtatiously at Leah.

"Hey, if you're tired of this loser here, I could show you a good - _Jesus fucking Christ, Leah_?" The horror and shock in his voice make him sound almost comical, and Leah bursts into laughter, breaking the awkward moment.

"Very nice to see you too, Paul," she says dryly. "Well, I see you're doing your boy bonding thing, and this is my cue to leave," she continues, picking up her clutch from the counter.

"I'll see you later, Seth," she says, leaning in for a hug. "And… it was nice seeing you, Paul," she offers politely, before turning and exiting the bar, her clutch tucked under her arm and her phone in her hand.

Seth scowls as he watches Paul watch Leah walk away, a clear leer on his face. "Stop it," he orders, annoyed, as he takes a big gulp of the beer that the bartender plonks onto the counter in front of him.

Paul orders his own beer, and laughs as he looks at Seth. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says in his blasé manner that makes Seth want to punch him. The smile evaporates as Seth growls at him.

"Jesus, calm the fuck down, alright? I was just admiring, no harm done," Paul says defensively. "She's always been good looking, but she looks so different now with the hair and the lashes… and the way she carries herself is so different…"

Seth smiles. "Yeah, LA has really been good for her," he shares. "And no, you may not flirt with my sister tonight, or ever. Jesus, Paul," he quickly heads off the remark he knows is coming. "It wouldn't go anywhere anyway, she's headed back tomorrow morning."

Embry and Sam seem to materialize beside them. "Who are we talking about?" Embry asks, gesturing towards the bartender for beers for himself and Sam.

Seth hesitates, looking at Sam, who holds himself perfectly still, his face devoid of any expression. "Just Leah," he says, trying to feign nonchalance, while watching Sam like a hawk.

Paul jumps in enthusiastically. "Yeah, and I saw her just now, she looks absolutely _smoking_ now!"

Sam scoffs. "She was always beautiful," he contradicts.

Seth stiffens and glares at Sam, trying to warn him off without saying anything that could spark off an argument in front of the other pack members. Sam stares back at him impassively. Paul and Embry, noticing the tension between the two men, shift uncomfortably.

The awkward silence is broken by the appearance of Jared and Quil, who join in, all abuzz with excitement after seeing Leah outside. Apparently, she had been sitting in the lobby of the resort, busily talking on her phone about what sounded like a new premiere, they reported.

"And dude, let me tell you this, Leah was always hot, but she looks _amazing_ now. Like, off the charts hot," Quil concludes.

Seth glares at him. "Stop looking at my sister that way, shouldn't you be unable to because of Claire, anyway?" he snaps irritably.

Quil blinks at him, slightly surprised, then laughs. "Have you guys been teasing him about Leah? He looks like he's about to fly off the handle." To add insult to injury, he picks up Seth's half-full beer and downs the rest of it in two gulps, slamming the empty bottle back down onto the counter in front of Seth.

When Seth's eye begins to tick dangerously, he laughs. "Can't have you getting too drunk before your wedding, you need to be able to stand straight and sign the registration," he defends his actions, smirking.

"Stop acting like Paul," Seth orders. "Actually, all of you, stop acting like Paul, including you, Paul," he declares slightly irrationally. "And don't look at my sister that way," he adds as an afterthought.

Instead of taking offense, Paul doubles over in laughter, then stands up and slaps Seth on the back. "You're losing your edge bro, good luck for the wedding. As nervous as you are, you'll need all the luck you can get not throwing up all over yourself and your blushing bride," he teases.

"Thanks a lot," Seth grumbles, picking up Paul's beer and finishing it off in retaliation.

Emily stops short when she enters the lobby and her eyes land on Leah. Even looking distracted and having what looks like a very intense discussion on the phone, Leah is the most beautiful woman Emily has ever seen. Her thick curls frame her face and tumble down her shoulders, the false lashes adding a gorgeous sparkle to her eyes.

Envy rises in Emily, that Leah has always had everything she could ever possibly want: the guy, the grades in school, the gorgeous looks. And now, apparently, a successful career as a photographer. What kind of photographer becomes as famous as she has, anyway? Shouldn't photographers be on the other end of the camera?

But then Emily remembers the times that she and Leah had spent together, giggling under the covers as children, gossiping in the malls in Port Angeles as teenaged girls, and all the times in between that they'd shared.

She remembered Leah telling her so excitedly about Sam when they'd first become official in her freshman year and his sophomore year, and being simultaneously thrilled for her cousin and best friend, and jealous that something so romantic as finding her own soul mate had not happened to her. She remembered all the beautiful smiles and hugs that Leah had so generously given her throughout their childhood years, and the gifts they'd shared with each other.

But most of all, she remembered the look of unadulterated hatred and betrayal that Leah had given her when she'd found her in bed with Sam; the knowledge every time they'd spent time together since that day that Leah was only humouring her because she was polite and kind, and didn't want to do something like renounce her relationship with Emily.

But she'd known, even then, that the only thing that kept their relationship going was Emily's perseverance, her determination not to let Leah slip away, and her resultant clinginess.

It had been a stroke of spite, she knew, to have Leah be so involved in her wedding to Sam. She'd known it when she'd done it, and she didn't quite know why she had been so cruel to Leah. Maybe it was because she'd always been jealous of Leah, maybe it was because she'd wanted to reinforce the message that Sam belonged to her now and that he was off-limits to Leah, no matter that they'd shared such a special bond in high school, and maybe it was that she'd needed the acceptance from the pack, for being such a kind and trusting person, letting Leah be in her wedding.

Maybe it was all three.

She wondered how Leah would react if she saw her now. Would she scream and make a scene? Come up to her and pretend like nothing had happened, like they were still friends? Act like an acquaintance and smile politely?

She didn't expect what actually happened in the least. Glancing around the room, Leah's eyes settled on her for a mere second, then shifted and looked through her like she didn't remember her at all, like she was just another stranger milling around in the lobby.

She was stunned for a moment. What the hell was that? No reaction at all? She didn't warrant any sort of notice?

Shocked and somehow embarrassed by the complete lack of concern that Leah seemed to display towards her, she started forward.

Yay another chapter is up so soon I'm kind of impressed with myself hehe. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please do review to let me know what you think!

Also I'm really sorry for dragging this on for so long, I honestly had not intended to turn this into such a long story. I'll try to finish up in the next one or two chapters.

Love,

Peachy Hikaru


	5. Chapter 5

It takes all of Leah's willpower to keep her features schooled, maintain her neutral expression of slight boredom as she looks past Emily.

_Shit._ That's all she can think at the moment, panic gripping at her insides as she takes a deep breath. In that moment, all that's preventing her from turning tail and fleeing is all the practice she's had being in uncomfortable situations, being in the public eye as she is all the time now. Well, that and the fact that she can't possibly make a scene at her own brother's wedding. No, it has to be perfect.

She sees Emily walking towards her and suddenly anger suffuses her entire being, although she doesn't allow her emotions to reflect on her face. How dare she? After all she'd done to Leah, making her suffer again and again under the thin guise of their friendship.

As if friendship could survive what she'd done to Leah. As if she still deserved her friendship, after being so selfish, stealing away her fiancé.

After all, according to the imprint, the wolf had to do whatever his imprint wanted, be whatever she asked, right? So why couldn't she have asked Sam to continue being with her 'best friend'?

She can feel it at that moment, the old anger and resentment is being dredged up from the back of her mind, where she had buried it. She'd honestly thought she'd moved on, but she supposes not. In some ways, she thinks, that was to be expected - after all, despite placing hundreds of miles between them, she'd never really gotten closure.

Regardless, this is not the time for a screaming confrontation, and she has no desire to partake in something so childish anyway. She does know, however, that she is currently way too sober to tolerate an entire evening of watching Sam and Emily in their deliriously happy state, feeling the uncomfortable judgmental stares of her former pack mates, and causing Seth to worry about her at his own wedding.

Resolutely, she picks up her clutch and heads back to the bar, studiously avoiding the men who were clustered around the bar. She set her clutch down on the counter a good distance away from the pack, which she is outrightly refusing to even glance at, and sits herself down on a high stool.

"What can I get for you, gorgeous?" the bartender stops in front of her to ask her, winking.

"Vodka, straight up," she answers curtly, while texting her agent on her phone to apologize for hanging up on him abruptly, and to finish relaying her instructions for the development and framing of her new pieces for the upcoming gallery show her works had been invited to.

He places the shot glass in front of her and she smiles at him in thanks, ignoring the split second where he stares at her with stars in his eyes, stunned for a moment by her unexpected beauty. She knocks the shot back expertly, slamming the glass back down on the table with her eyes screwed tightly shut as she savours the burn of the alcoholic beverage as it slides like smooth liquid fire down her throat.

"Thanks, place it on my tab," she instructs the bartender distractedly, pushing her room key card at him. Her bangs fell into her face as she looked down at her phone, and she huffed in annoyance, pushing her hair back over her ear.

"Jesus Christ, why does he have to be so difficult?" she mutters under her breath, referring to the gallery director where the next show she will be featured in will be held. It's a combined collection of several photographers' works, and if she's being honest, she really doesn't care who the other photographers are, and what their artwork will look like. She doesn't think they particularly care either. All she needs is for some of her photos to sell, regardless of whose work stands on the wall next to hers.

He'd sent her _another _long email requesting that she come down with the other artists to try and work out an arrangement for the works on display, and didn't he know that allowing the artists to choose where to place their artwork always ended in arguments and sometimes even physical fights? Was he new?

"Just asking for trouble," she mutters as she slides off the stool, a toe pointed towards the ground which she lands on gracefully. Picking up her items from the counter, she spins and walks away, in her preoccupation with her work not noticing that she had caught the attention of the pack members, sans Seth who had gone to prepare, and that every single one of them was staring at her slack-jawed.

"Oh my God, you were right, she looks amazing," Embry breathes once she's left the bar. "Do you think - "

"No." The word, issued from Sam in an abrupt tone that brooks no argument, shut Embry up immediately. He glares at Sam. "You don't own her, you know. It's been ten years since you two dated, and you're married to Emily now."

Sam glares right back at him. "_I. Said. No."_ The words seem forced between his gritted teeth, and the pack members glance at each other uneasily, knowing that if they still shifted, Sam would have torn out of his clothing right at that moment.

But, then again… "Embry's right, you know. Technically, any of us could try our luck - not that we would, of course," Quil tacks on hastily, as Sam's death glare slices towards him.

With impeccable timing, Jacob breezes in. "Hi guys, long time no see," he greets them casually. "Have you seen Leah? I ran into her on my way in, and she looks amazing, by the way, LA has really been good to her."

The attention shifts towards Jacob and he raises a brow at the silence.

"_You. Do. Not. Look. At. Her._" The order is growled out by Sam, thoroughly annoyed now at all the attention that the pack is giving her, when they'd been so cruel to her before she left.

Jacob stands to his full height, towering over even Sam. "No, _you_ don't look at her. First of all, I'm not in your pack, remember? I'm alpha of my own pack, and I don't take orders from you. Secondly, how dare you give orders about Leah? Or have you forgotten that you haven't been together since you were both teenagers? News flash, you're almost thirty now and you should be well over a teenage romance. Stop acting like such a sulky child, Leah is not a toy, she is certainly not yours, and you have a wife, in case you've forgotten."

The harsh reality check from Jacob shuts Sam up temporarily, as his words sink in. Oh, God. He's right. Blindly, Sam turns away and walks out.

* * *

Leah hurries into the little room at the back of the ballroom where Juliet is waiting. With a smile that masks her inner turmoil, she asks cheerfully, "And how's the blushing bride? Excited?"

Juliet turns around to look at Leah, sniffling a little tearfully. "I don't know how I feel!" she wails. "I'm excited, but I'm also scared, and I… I…"

Leah runs over and wraps her arms tightly around Juliet. "First of all, don't cry, you'll mess up your makeup! Secondly, what's there to be afraid of? You know Seth is the only one for you, and you're the only one for him. There's no reason to be nervous. Everything's going to be all right." As she strokes Juliet's back, she doesn't know whether the last sentence was said for Juliet's benefit or her own.

She knows Sam is out there, with the rest of the pack. Saw him out of the corner of her eye in the bar, although she refused to acknowledge it. She is hyperaware of the stares that Emily and the pack have been giving her, although she doesn't know and doesn't much care about the things they're sure to be whispering about her behind her back. She's here to offer her support to Seth and Juliet on their important day, and that's all.

_That. Is. All_. She repeats it firmly in her mind, reminding herself not to get sucked into the miasma of bitterness and resentment that she had been locked into for so long. She didn't go to LA, spread her wings and experience freedom and happiness, just to come back and get stuck in the same trap.

Juliet hugs her back, and she draws comfort from the embrace, even though she knows Juliet doesn't even know what's going on in her head. That's okay. The entire night should be all about Juliet, and she's going to make damn sure her own drama doesn't affect their perfect fairytale night.

She leans away from Juliet and smiles, her carefree countenance hiding the steely resolve buried in her. She doesn't want to worry Juliet unnecessarily, after all. "I'm going to go check on Seth, okay? Have courage," she advised, both to Juliet and secretly, to herself.

Juliet smiled up at her, sniffing away the last of her tears, and thanked her. With another smile, she left the small room to look for her brother.

She steps out of the ballroom, and immediately, Emily is in her personal space, staring her down.

"Not now, Emily." Without even pausing in her stride, she walks away. Emily hurries to keep up.

"But wait, Leah, I need to talk to you, it's very important, I have to tell you - "

Leah whirls around, furious. "I am _not interested_ in anything you have to tell me, Emily. Nothing about you, or your perfect life, or your perfect husband, is of any interest to me. I don't want to hear you wax on about how romantic Sam is, how loyal, faithful, sweet, _whatever._" Emily winces as she recalls all the times she did just that to Leah, hoping to drive home the message that Sam was hers now, trying to force Leah to give up. But Leah is not done. She continues on, in that quiet, angry voice that sends shivers up and down Emily's spine.

"I stopped being interested in that ten years ago, Emily, and I _especially_ don't want you to bring all of that up tonight, at my own brother's wedding. Stop trying to monopolize everything. I didn't come back for you. I came back to attend my brother's wedding, and you're not going to make it all about you. Tonight is all about Seth and Juliet, as it should be. Can you, just for one night, control your need to make everything about yourself?"

Emily blinks in surprise at the harsh tone and words spewing forth from Leah. She's never seen Leah this way before, not when she'd sat her down and told her that Sam and her were together now, and not when she'd asked her to be her maid of honor, and never, at any time, when she had held her tongue while the men in the pack insulted Leah to her face or behind her back. She'd always taken it.

And Emily suddenly feels overwhelming anger. How _dare_ Leah speak to her this way? After all, it isn't like she'd had such an easy time of it herself, trying to resist Sam at first, having to live with this scarred face, and she was even _giving Sam back to Leah_. She could at least refrain from being so rude. Where does she get off? Just because she's a hotshot photographer in LA now, that doesn't mean she can forsake her old friends and family the way she seems to have, acting all hoity-toity like she's better than Emily when it has always been so clear that Emily was the more feminine, better woman out of the two of them. After all, even the other pack members thought so; even _Sam_, who had loved Leah first, thought _Emily_ was better than her cousin.

But before she has a chance to open her mouth to tell Leah off, put Leah back in her place, which is firmly _behind her_, Leah had turned around and walked away from her, and there was no way that Emily could go back to continue the discussion without seeming like a harpy shrew.

Emily scowls and walked away. So much for their happy little reunion; it seems that Leah wasn't interested in any conciliation. She would have apologised for her part in driving Leah away, if Leah had just been more like her old self, the sweet girl that Emily remembered. After all, she thinks she deserves an apology too from Leah, for just upping and leaving her without a best friend, without a word, any sort of hint of what she had been planning. She just wants her old best friend back, the one who had been so happy for her even when her happiness came at the expense of Leah's.

But this woman, this awful, unreasonable woman, dressed and made up like a common streetwalker, wasn't at all what Emily had expected, and this wasn't the woman that Emily wanted to have in her life, to give her husband up for. After all, Sam deserved better than that, and he'd known it. It was why he'd chosen Emily in the first place.


End file.
